Bella's Run (29 page)

Will had his own thoughts on why Leyton Fowler wanted Prudence and they didn’t include love. More like a fashionable accessory on his arm at race-days.

‘Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I guess I
was
on the rebound when we got together. But you can’t say I’ve treated you badly. You got your Paspaley pearls, had the race-days, the housekeeper, the pedicures and manicures, for fuck’s sake! What more did you want?’

‘You, Will. I just wanted you.’

But Prue could never have him because he was always somewhere else. In the memories of the past where another woman stood at his side. A time when his sister was still alive.

When he had lifted Bella from the burgan shrub that morning, the smell of her hair reached up to tantalise and his knees had nearly gone from under him. All he wanted to do was hold onto this woman and not let go. The scent of her body was the same as he remembered – fresh spring roses with a touch of earthy musk.

Will shook himself in the saddle, startling Wizard into missing a pace. They stumbled, Will riding it out easily, going with his mount. He gently stroked Wizard’s neck as he regained his balance and rhythm. ‘Easy boy, easy fella. Keep it going, old mate. We’re nearly there.’

When he finally found them, at the end of the trail in the sunlit open grassland of Hugh’s Plain, it wasn’t just his horse that was breathing hard.

‘What the fuck are you doing?!’ his voice ground out as he took in what was before his eyes.

She lay in the grass, topless. A raspberry-pink bustier was tossed negligently to the side.

Her magnificent breasts were bared in all their voluptuous glory to the dying rays of the sun. Her skirt was rucked up to her map of Tassie as she rested, soaking up the last of the afternoon’s heat.

‘I was hot,’ Bella said, eyes closed, lying warm, moist and contented as she wriggled sensually in the sun.

Will was speechless.

He took in her body, laid out in the grass like in his dreams; watched as those breasts moved fluidly when she wiggled her bum slowly through the feathery grass. He was shocked at his thoughts as his mind moved from fear and rage to something more raw and primitive. His eyes moved lingeringly, bewitched by her sensual movements on the ground. If Bella had been watching she would have been fascinated as his brittle-toffee eyes seemed to melt, as the ruggedly handsome face seemed to darken, and a hot thrumming madness replaced the fear in his blood.

His body moved of its own accord.

He slid from his horse silently to stand over the woman who seemed intent on making his life a living hell. His gaze taking in what he had loved and lost eight years before. His conscience wrestled between what was right and wrong, while the image in front of him remained so surreal, on this remote plain deep in the mountains where wild brumbies played – far, far away from the real world.

He watched as the hot sun kissed her body, reliving tastes of the sweetness that had been theirs so long ago. Enticing sweetness he had glimpsed, smelled and touched again that morning.

He watched as she wiggled, settling her bum into a better position among the clefts of flattened grass.

Her eyes were closed. Her legs flung wide.

Without a word he kicked at his boots until they disappeared into the thick native grass smothering the open plain, then undid his belt buckle and slowly slid the fly down on his pants.

He lay down to gently mount the woman who’d haunted his night sleep for so long.

Chapter 27

‘You’re still good in the sack, cowgirl.’

The deep voice curled lazily around her ears, as she lay with her eyes closed, feeling warm and completely sated. The words brought Bella back to earth with a thud. Is that all he thought this was? A good roll in the hay? What on earth was she doing, making love to Will, after all this time, while she was engaged to another man?

Bella abruptly sat up, reached for her scattered clothes and hurriedly started to pull them back on.

‘Hey! Not so fast.’

A hand came up from behind to cup a breast. Her sensitive nipples hardened instantly at his touch. Inwardly she cursed her traitorous body.

‘I’ve got a UHF radio here, I’ll let them all know I’ve found you and we’ll be back in a while. In the meantime,’ Will’s voice turned sensuous, ‘lie down here and relax.’ His other arm reached out to haul her down into the grass.

Bella shrugged it off and wrapped her bustier back around her chest, dislodging the hand still caressing her breast. ‘We have to get back now. Everyone will be wondering . . .’ Her voice was sharp, almost biting.

Will slowly sat up, a puzzled look on his face. ‘I said I’d let them know. What’s up, Hells Bells?’

‘What’s up? What’s up? I’ll tell you what’s UP! I’m engaged, for heaven’s sake. I shouldn’t be doing this!’ Bella struggled to do up the bustier, which wasn’t cooperating. ‘Oh, crap!’

‘Here, let me help. If you’re so hell-bent on leaving.’

A hand came up again.

‘No!’ she cried. ‘Just leave me.’ She pushed the hand away, then stopped and took a deep breath. ‘I can get it on my own.’ She sighed, willing herself to calm down, before adding as an afterthought, ‘Thanks.’ It wasn’t all his fault, she reminded herself. As her mother once told her, ‘It takes two to tango.’ And boy, did they tango. She shook her head trying not to imagine what he must have thought of her lying in the grass so wanton and shameless, waiting for him. He was a man with needs. And that was all it was, by the sound of it: a need, an itch to be scratched, a thanks-for-the-good-times roll in the hay.

Why was she reacting like this? Will wondered. It had been so beautiful, amazing – and she was making a bolt for it. He had thought she was waiting for him, had wanted him to make love to her. Now here she was acting like his touch was repulsive. What did she think he was? A country plaything to be tossed aside after the deed was done, so she could return to her rich life and her fiancé? All he’d said was she was still good in the sack. He’d just been stirring, saying something the old Bella would have laughed at.

He lay and watched the woman he’d just made love to struggle back into her clothes with desperate intensity. He still cared deeply for her. His sister’s death, time, Prue – nothing had altered that.

But in the afterglow of lovemaking he’d forgotten that this Bella was different. She wasn’t the same girl he’d known eight years ago. This was a new creature. A woman who’d moved on to bigger and better things. Someone who, he was now realising, had a chip the size of a woolley butt log on her shoulder, who probably wouldn’t recognise a joke if it kicked her up the bum.

‘Bella, I didn’t mean—’

‘I know, Will, I know.’ Now fully clothed, Bella walked towards Aprillia. ‘This didn’t mean anything. I understand that.’

‘But . . . I mean . . . the sex . . . it did—’

‘Just pull up your pants, O’Hara, and let’s ride the hell out of here.’ Bella gathered Aprillia’s reins and swung herself up onto the horse’s back. ‘And you’d better radio in to the others anyway. They’ll be getting worried.’ She kicked Aprillia forward and without looking back rode off towards the brumby track that was barely discernable among the trees.

Will slowly dressed and then mounted Wizard. He radioed in to say he had found Bella safe and well. Then he headed off after her, all the while thinking that it would be really good if, for once in her life, she’d just let him finish a bloody sentence.

But if that’s the way she wanted it, that’s the way she could have it.

They made it back to the marquee at Ben Bullen Hills Station as the reception party was about to start. Bella flung herself from Aprillia’s back, determined not to look at the man hauling in his mount by her side.

‘I’ll take her if you like,’ said Will, quiet and remote.

‘Thanks,’ was all she could manage, handing over the reins and not quite meeting his eyes.

What had felt so right, so natural and primal beneath the late-afternoon sun on Hugh’s Plain had now tarnished to something tawdry, dirty and baseless. She didn’t know which way to look, what to say. How to find an excuse, if there was one, for her behaviour. He took it out of her hands by turning his back to lead the horses away to the cattle yards far beyond the lights of the massive white marquee.

Bella stood for a moment and watched him go, the slight limp apparent as he walked with the two horses across the rough, open ground that passed for an airstrip on top of the Ben Bullen Hills.

She knew she should have been happy: caught up in the city, with its hectic, exciting life; engaged to a handsome, successful man. But in the last twelve months she had realised something was missing. There didn’t seem to be a
point
to her life anymore.

And now?

A broadside hit in the form of a country boy. A country
man
. Would she have done what she just did if she was really happy with Warren and their life together?

Happy! Did you say HAPPY?
It was Patty’s voice suddenly echoing in her head.
Who are you trying to kid, Hells Bells? You haven’t been happy in a long time, chickadee. Admit it and move on with your life!

As Bella turned and walked towards the wedding marquee, she could hear the thump of the huge generators Trin had trucked in for the night. The clanging of the big camp-oven lids rang out as the caterers checked the progress of roasting vegetables, basking in their cast-iron heat, sitting on coals beside the substantial fire pits. There was also the squeaking belch of rotisseries as beef, lamb and pork turned around on mechanically driven rods.

And beyond the drone of the masses of partygoers hooking into the grog from the well-stocked bar, another sound reached out into the darkening, clear mountain sky.

Whup, whup, whup.

Bella cocked her head.

Whup, whup, whup.

A leaden feeling hit her chest and travelled down into her gut.

Whup, whup, whup.

The noise grew louder and materialised into a slicklooking blue-and-orange helicopter, its brilliant white landing light beaming from a skid. The chopper made its way with precision to the airstrip, where a landing sock hung used and slack from a tall, knobbed steel pole.

With a sickening lurch to her stomach, Bella knew who would be on board, as the livery of the chopper became apparent. The rear rotors of the chopper spun to reveal the lines of writing splashed across its tail: Oxford, Bride and Associates.